Finding Alegaesia
by roxci
Summary: Eragon is a poverty child of the slums called the Spine, just outside a city called Carvahall. Orphaned at birth, he only has a blueeyed saphira to keep his head up and combate the threat of starvation. But will his dreams for a better life, and his uncany nack for painting allow a window for escape? Or just thrust him into a world bigger then he could have imagined.
1. Finding Alagaesia

Authors note: Maybe you remember me and maybe you do not, but hello readers Sueke's back! Many of you cared for my Inheritance book5, and it saddens me to tell you that I must discontinue it for the time being. I got a Beta reader, but then I encountered some difficult computer issues in which my computer crashed. Talk about blue screen of death! All my work was lost and it discouraged me immensely…I had well above six or eight chapters written and it all went to waste. :[. That being written, I am discontinuing it. It's really sad, but i have installed a new computer and wish to continue to work on progressing my writing. I hope you will all give my stuff another try and just maybe I won't disappoint you.

This is a severely AU story, much different from anything else I've done. But I'm inspired to write it and see where it goes. If you like, I'll continue. If you don't, then it is just solely for my entertainment and practice.

All CHARACTERS EXCEPT THAT OF MY OWN CREATION BELONG TO C.P. THIS IS ONLY A FANFICTION TO ENJOY CREATED BY SOMEONE WHO ENJOYS A GOOD STORY TOLD.

May I present to you without further ado…

**Finding Alegaësia**

Rain fell over the streets of Carvahall generously as a small boy in white sneakers ran in between garbage cans and discarded boxes of junk. His breathing came out in pants as he clutched at his knees. The rain pelting his oversized navy blue hoodie caused his skin to clutch at the material in rapidly forming bumps and he searched around him for shelter while the hollering behind him grew louder.

The boy had been sleeping on a park bench when the rain hit and forced him to go searching for warmth. The sweater he wore he had found casually thrown on a clothes rack in the heart of the city. No one would have missed it.

But the man of the house came outside just as the boy had been reaching for it and the bloke immediately resorted to launching for him. With a yelp, he ran with the large blue sweater thrown over his shoulder. He had not expected such a fuss over a discarded sweater, but boy was he _wrong._

It had taken almost everything he had to outrun the man, who was running like an enraged bear, arms philandering and fists shaking with the promise of a good beating.

The boy didn't stay within his sights for long. Discovering a sewage puncture in one of the sidewalks, he held onto the sweater as he slid beneath the city and into darkness. Striking ground hard, he collapsed with an anguished cry and shook in exhaustion. His body was well malnourished and pale, and his curly brown hair was dirty and smelt like wear he had fallen. He sobbed for a time, clutching the sweater to his chest before slowly lifting his aching arms to place it over his shivering frame.

Once he caught his breath, the brown haired child arose in the darkness and felt for a wall to guide him. Reaching out to his left, he eventually felt one and proceeded to limp in the underground until he came across a latter.

Rats squirmed beneath his feet and hands as he gripped the cool metal but he could care less. Upon numerous occasions he had slept with the rodents during his time spent in a slum known as the Spine. Warmth was a blessing, and the thought made him rub the large sleeves of his new sweater before rolling them up to successfully climb the sewage latter.

The hoodie was very large and fell to his knees, but it was another layer and he would rejoice in it.

With a luck he had never had, the heavy cylinder that covered the sewer hole was uncovered, and he pushed it aside with frail palms. Pulling himself out, and back into the rain he observed his surroundings and found himself to be near the outskirts of Carvahall city. Fate didn't seem to want to give him a rest however, as two police men spotted him and began shouting and sprinting towards him.

Not wanting to climb back into the fowl stench of the sewer with the Spine so close, the boy ran. His legs wobbled and sharp pains shot through him whenever his holey sneakers touch ground, but he was scared, wet, and determined to escape captivity.

The shouts of the police officers grew dim as he cut in and out through alley ways and dark corners until finally he was forced to stop and clutch at his knees in pain and exhaustion.

That's when the police men caught up with him, their flashlights blinding him and making him whimper. One stepped forward to grab him, and the wild boy screamed like an animal before clawing at the man's hand. The officer yelped and snatched his hand back.

Wasting no time, the boy slid beneath his knees and pushed past the other office in a mad dash for the Spine.

"Leave em Ernie, he's obviously a slum rat!" Yelled the officer the boy had pushed past when the injured one attempted to call in reinforcements.

Deep in the heart of his slum now, the boy collapsed into the mud. The rain continued to fall and he shivered and cried in pain.

"Eragon is that you lad?" called a familiar voice. The only thing he remembered before darkness took him was the sharp blue eyes of a small blond haired friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Author note: My apologies for any spelling errors in the first chapter, it was very late and I am a little dyslexic.

Elemental Dragon Slayer: Thank you for being my first reviewer! Cheers . And more than likely, yes romance will be a part of my story. Between which characters though, you'll have to see. I won't be introducing other female characters besides Saphira and Marian and Angela for awhile.

Chapter two: **Slum survival**

Eragon awoke with a start when a warm, wetness caressed his cheek. With a yelp, his head smashed into another's and both moaned and clutched at themselves.

"You dim wit it's me!" protested a very annoyed Saphira. Her short blond hair was pinned back by a small orange clip, and her blue eyes narrowed at him while she rubbed her forehead. Eragon blinked and then saw that he was in their small tent, which was located behind a dumpster. It was more then most orphans had here in the slums.

"Sorry Saph, I'm still a little out of sorts." He replied in his heavy Irish accent. That's right, hims parents had been born of the fatherland green and beautiful before they were taken by this disease called…phenomena? He could never get it right. But whatever it was, it placed his parents in the grave and him in the slums of the Spine.

"Whatever curly, now that you're up we best be headin out to old man Garrow's."

Garrow was one of the nicest blokes he had ever met. He had employed Eragon to run his errands around the slums, collecting whatever he could find for the lads clan and little ones. Garrow's son , Roran, was a good fellow and he and Eragon ran around most often then naught getting into it with the rotten blokes down at Angela's, a tiny make shift bar.

"Alright you blue eyed she devil, let me get my bearings first." He sat up and reached under his tattered sheet and found his tiny tin whistle. He used it to let Garrow know he was around, and not some thieving urchin like most. Eragon noticed Saphira eyeing his new sweater, which he was practically drowning in with his frail arms and legs, and he took in her torn and mud smeared clothes.

She wore a pair of large jeans, like that of a lad in his teenage years, and a scratchy twist of yarn tethered through the loops to serve as a belt. Her top was a green and brown tank that was very small and failed to cover her slender abdomen. The thing used to be white.

Eragon stood and poked his head outside the tent, his chest at her shoulder because of the small space. Frowning at the rain that still fell, he returned to her and pulled off his sweater.

"Here lass." Saphira's eyes lit up and she made to take it, but then frowned.

Shaking her head she declined, "No Eragon, it's yours. You found it."

He scoffed softly in response. "It's mine to give and you'll be needing it dressed as you are. Garrow can grace me with one of Roran's."

The tiny girl thought hard for a moment, concerned for her friend but when Eragon raised her chin and looked at her sincerely she relented.

Mumbling something about his large brown eyes, all warm like a pleading babe, she let him pull it over her head and it fell to her ankles in its length.

"I look ridiculous." She deadpanned and then hugged the sleeves to her chin, "Thank you curly."

With a nod, he ignored the shiver as the wind blew rain into their home and took her hand.

"Let's go join the dead eh?"

***TIME SHIFT TO GARROW'S***

Little Rosie, Garrow and Marian 's youngest lass was screeching a new one after Eragon had returned with some scraps of food he found out in the city dumpsters. It was amazing what people threw away, there were half eaten eggs and toast, even a small bottle of strawberry milk.

"Thank you boy" Garrow praised with wide eyes, thumping him on the shoulder. "We would wither away without you around for a good eye."

Garrow was a large man, not unlike his oldest lad Roran, but he had a failing eyesight ever since he was attacked by a pack of city dogs a butcher had sent on him when he went on digging threw trash for scraps.

"A slum dog understands another sir." Eyeing little Rosie, who was practically throwing herself towards the smell of food, Eragon felt his throat constrict and he was ashamed that he almost wished to keep the food to himself. But he owed this to Garrow, who always watched out for him and Saphira. He had been the one to find them that spot behind the dumpster, out of sights to most of the hooligans running amuck around the Spine.

Garrow pat his head once, and went to calm down Rosie. "Hey there little one, how's about a bite of some egg huh?"

Marian looked over his shoulder to smile gratefully at Eragon, the desperation in her eyes the same as they all had, but she was always better at pushing it aside to thank him.

"Bless you child. You'll let little Saphira know that I've got something for her wont you?"

After nodding, she smiled again and went back to helping Rosie say "Egg" as Garrow fed her. The both of them were very skinny and starved, but Eragon knew that they would always place their children before themselves. With silent tears, He walked out of their tiny shack and went looking for Saphira.

Roran did in fact grace him with one of his large polo shirts, and though he was still cold, the rain had stopped and it was enough to do as Garrow asked out in the city. Pulling his whistle to his lips, Eragon went on at the tune familiar to Saphira. Roran had taken her out to show her a litter of kittens that Angela, the owner of the only bar in the Spine's cat Solembum's matehad delivered and he knew that they'd probably still be lurking about over that way.

As he walked he kept his eyes constantly drifting around him, weary as he was from his run in the city earlier, he knew that some of the other lads had it out for his neck. One more body in the slums meant less food for everyone, and times were very hard lately.

Seeing no one over the leagues of trash and mud, he continued on his way to Angela's.

_Thwack._

Eragon fell to the wet ground holding his head; someone had thrown a stone. With a groan, he looked up to see several of Sloan's boys standing over him with grins adorned on each of their sorry sob faces.

Oh this couldn't end well.

The oldest, Mathew, laughed like a toad and bent down to smirk into his face. "What you got there _puddles worth,_ is that a whistle?"

The others laughed as Eragon tightened his hold on the whistle and closed his eyes. "Leave me be Mat, I aint got trouble with you." He mumbled weakly into the mud and stone of the street.

Mathew chuckled and cast a look at his gang of brothers. "Me thinks he's holdin out on us boys." Shouts of agreement rang out and Eragon tried to burry deeper into the street.

"Whelp, come on then _puddles worth_, cough up the silver. That'll pay for the few nights you haven't been running for Sloan."

"S'not silver lad." He whispered back, his head still away from the blokes surrounding him.

"Oh, well why should you have such a pretty thing anyways if it aint?" demanded the boy, who then gave the order to grab Eragon and lift him up.

He kicked and fought, but he was to malnourished and weak to defend any better than a mouse caught in a lion's claw.

Several powerful blows were dealt to his chest and face, causing him to sink within the arms of the boys around him and duck his chin.

"Keep your head up puddles worth, don't ya know how to take a few rights?"

"Do you?" growled a new voice, far deeper than any mere boy. Eragon blinked back his tears to see none other than Roran who came loose with a solid right hook that sent Matthew spewing backwards into the street. He collapsed into a puddle with a splash that drenched the lot of them and he clutched at his face which was already turning red.

Roran glared at the boys holding Eragon, and made a show of raising his fists. They immediately bolted, tossing Eragon to the ground with Matthew yelling after them. He shot them each a glare, before Roran made a step towards him and he screamed like a wee lass. He ran faster than Eragon ever had before.

Crouching down before him, Roran's strong arm reached out to him and he pulled Eragon to his feet slowly. "Easy there kid, you alright?"

Eragon nodded weakly and sniffled. "Yeah boss…just roughed up a little." Roran glared in the direction the boys before leading Eragon away from the street and towards Angela's bar.

"Come on kid, your Saphira's inside warming up by the new litter."

Eragon couldn't be more grateful for Roran. Looking up with a swollen eye, he smiled at the tall lad who was more like a brother then anyone in the world. They approached Angela's little make shift bar with slow steps, being as he had a limp.

When Roran pushed the door open, Eragon was instantly attacked in a hug by Saphira. When you live in the Spine, each day was both a blessing and a damn curse. Death was always looming over you as well as the next day and he and Saphira knew that better than anyone.

"What's up curly?" She greeted, but then upon pulling back and seeing his face Eragon could swear he saw her Eyes flash steal in rage.

"What idiot did that to your face!?" She gasped and glared at Roran for explanation. He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Don't you be getting spit balled with me Blondie, I found him like that."

Saphira turned her glare to him and Eragon smirked before grimacing in pain as his jaw clicked.

"Was it Sloan's boys?" she asked softly, while touching a bruise on his pale cheek.

His silence was enough.

Saphira's hair curled around her sunken cheeks as she shriveled up in anger. "When I get my hands on that Matthew I'm gunna-"

"Oh look what the cold dragged in, is that little Eragon? Come here child, come and see what Daisy brought into the world this morning." called the sweet voice of Miss Angela from behind the bar, "Come on, come on. No sense standing over there in that old boring threshold."

Roran placed a hand on each of their shoulders and ushered them over to the frizzy red head Angela, whose green eyes were bright with excitement. "Look look! What darlings they are right?" she even gave a little jump and spun in a circle.

Angela was one lass he would never understand.

As they joined her behind the counter, Eragon looked down to see Daisy's white fur curled up inside a cardboard box beside her mate old Solembum with three tiny mixed colored kittens suckling at the tit.

Besides himself, he managed a grin. Even in the Slums of the Spine, there were tiny moments of lighter things.

"Hey Slum bum." Saphira practically purred, "You ol' devil cat you." She patted his pointed ears and the large silver cat turned his head to lazily lick her fingers.

It was then that Angela noticed Eragon's bruises. "Oh dear lad, what's this? Off meddling in mischief again were you." She turned his chin up to meet his gaze and her green eyes implored his in worry.

"Let's see if I can fetch you a little something for that dear alright?"

He said nothing as she spun to find some herbs for him. Roran leaned against the counter and watched Saphira play with the kittens before commenting.

"In the mood for a little visit to the Sloan residency?" and by residency he surely meant butchery. The place was a slaughterhouse run by Sloan's henchmen. They practically ran the slums.

Eragon looked up confusedly. "What are you going on about Roran?"

"Revenge." He declared with a slow grin.

The lad would be the death of him.

Authors note: This is becoming a joy to write! Please review if you agree so far.


	3. Abduction

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey everyone, thanks for checking out the new story .

GaBeRock: Hi, yes this is a modern day AU but its location, or Eragons currently, is on a separate continent than the US. Where that is…I'm still looking up maps to plot that. But I will tell you Alagaësia isn't the name. That comes later when he discovers certain talents with a paint brush. No worries all will reveal itself in time. But as far as the real name of the continent, there is none. He did originate from Ireland though, and that's all he really knows. And nope, magic as in wands or enchantments do not exist here.

ramiz. .54: Thank you!

First Death: I plan to:). And hopefully you'll keep reading. (insert hopeful nudge)

Elemental Dragon Slayer: Hey elemental, thanks for keeping to the story so far . Roran is quite troublesome now isn't he…oh dear I almost don't want to write the chapter. (very much kidding lol)

Thanks for your reviews everyone, sorry to keep you waiting. Hopefully you'll enjoy this next installment.

**Abduction**

Roran laughed and thrusted Eragon up into his arms as they ran from Mathew and his gang, who were shouting profanities and chucking bottles of alcohol at their heads. Roran's deep laugh did not cease even as he carried Eragon back into Angela's warm bar. He was grinning like a fool, while the woman just glared at him and gathered Eragon into her arms. The boy was out cold.

"Roran Stronghammer, this is the second time in the same day that you have brought this boy to me in shambles. If you do so again I Will have your throat you hear me!"

Roran only laughed harder and clutched at his knees, breathing in heaves. "Oh Ang, you should have _seen_ it. I took the boy to confront those idiots and one goes and opens his mouth about Saphira." Another chuckle, "I've never seen the kid gather up so much energy in his whole life. He flat out knocked fatty John to the floor like nobody's business!" stated Roran as he came further into the bar and leaned against a stool. There was a certain proud twinckle in his eye as he looked at Eragon unconcious yet again in Angela's arms.

Angela fixed Roran with a furious gaze. "You keep that boy out of trouble you hear me. He's lost enough out here in the slums and I won't have him stirring up trouble with Sloan and his band of heathens. We were lucky to snag him from that butcher when we did, I mean _saints alive_ Roran the child is only ten years old!"

Roran backed away and raised his hands. "Alright Ang, alright; I'm sorry. But you should have _seen_ him get all riled up like a ripe tomato. I didn't know the kid had such a spark in him for little Blondie over there." Said Roran, with a head nod towards Saphira. She had fallen asleep by the fireplace waiting for their return and old Solembum was watching over her with drowsy eyes.

Angel huffed and readjusted Eragon in her arms as she carried him towards her bar counter, mumbling angrily over her shoulder something like, "You see that daughter of the butcher's while you were over there?"

Roran scoffed and pointedly ignored the snide comment.

Gently, Angela situated Eragon onto the counter, his long curly hair framing his bruised face like a crazed halo, and grabbed the ointment for his new bruise.

"How'd he acquire this one then hmm?" the bar tender asked softly.

******flash backwards to the loading dock outback Sloan's meat house********

_Three boys were on top of Roran, grappling with him in the cold muddy streets while Eragon cowered against a wall with Matthew and fatty John closing in._

"_What you think you're a tough guy now cus you gots your friend over there to protect you? We'll him aint protecting nothing now. What ya think Fatty John?" _

_The short blond haired boy grinned sickeningly and shook with rolls of laughter. "Nope, he's too busy over there with the boys. I beat when we're through with him, he won't even be around to save that little trollup he keeps under his arm. Aint that right puddles worth?"_

_At the mention of Saphira, Eragon dropped his arms and abruptly stood. "You better keep away from her or I'll kill you!" He yelled, making the boys jump in surprise. He was shaking with rage._

_A slow grin grew on fatty John's face._

"_Why should a sack of bones like you have your hands up a skirt like that huh?" At this several of the boys were laughing in earnest, but Eragon screamed like a wild child from hell and Lunged at Fatty John._

"_I said keep away from her!" he yelled and drove his tiny fists into Fatty Johns face so hard, he blacked out. Eragon was relentless, tears streamed down his eyes as he kept connecting his fists with John's fat, blubbery, face._

_A sharp pain struck Eragon on the side of his head as a bottle crashed into his skull, making his world instantly spin. The last thing he heard was Roran yelling for him._

********flash forward back to Angela's*********

When Eragon finally came too, he found himself wrapped in a thin sheet on Angela's floor, a stool staring him in the face.

He sat up slowly and startled when one of Daisy's new kittens blindly crawled over his toes.

"Aye that tickles!" he screeched and held his foot up in the air with a glare directed at the kitten. If there was one thing Eragon couldn't stand, it was being tickled.

"Curly!" Eragons face shot up just as Saphira slide onto her knees and into his side.

With a groan, Eragon returned her greeting. "Hi saph, why are we still here?"

Saphira's blue eyes turned mischievous and she grinned. "Don't you remember defending my honor last night?"

Eragon cocked his head. "No lass, what do you mean defend your- OUCH!" He abruptly cringed away from her pale hand that swatted him over a particularly sore spot on his noggin.

"Oh now I remember." He grumbled as he attempted to put more distance between them. The bar stool at his back shrieked against the old wood floor.

"Was that necessary Saph, geez!"

Her eyes fell into gentle amusement before she leaned in close and swiftly kissed his dirty cheek. "Nope but I thank you kindly anyways."

Eragon rolled his eyes and softly robbed the cheek she kissed. Saphira merely winked and leapt to her feet.

"Angela, were going now the dim wits awake!"

Eragons hands flew to his ears. "Saph don't yell so loud!"

With their goodbye's to Angela and a thank you from Eragon, the duo left, heading for "home".

The sun was barely making its way up into the sky and Saphira was shivering at the cold. " When we get inside your holding me in that sweater you got it curly." she demanded with chattering teeth. Just as the two were turning the corner to their alleyway dumpster large hands grabbed Saphira by the throat.

"Eragon!"

The boy leapt to come to her aid, but then another pair of hands grabbed him as well and spun him to see none other than Mathew and his gang of boys, only this time they came with their boss. Sloan the butcher.

"So this is where you've been hiding _boy_."


End file.
